


Never Expected You

by rinthegreat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura Lives! AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, I've always wanted to use that tag, M/M, mentions of past allurance, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Ten years after Honerva is defeated, Keith attends a celebration of the Coalition. It's the first time he's seen the paladins in years.Allura Lives! AU
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 362





	Never Expected You

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO: all transparency, I started writing this fic before s8 even came out. Then things in s8 happened, so this is an AU cause Allura lives in this one and the lions/voltron were sacrificed instead. It took me this long to get around to finishing and editing it, but I'm really happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too T-T
> 
> Art by [jillibean](https://www.instagram.com/jillibeeean/)

It’s been ten years since they stopped Honerva from finding her perfect reality. Nine since Voltron disbanded and the paladins retired to go down their own paths.

Eight since he’d last seen Lance.

Keith had seen Hunk three years ago when the chef’s guild – created by Hunk of course – had been hired to help the Blade. The planet they’d been helping was run by a species with particularly sensitive digestive systems. It had only taken Keith a week to realize they were in over their heads, and yet that had been more than enough. Once he’d called Hunk, the whole thing had been resolved in less than a day.

A year ago, Pidge and Matt had helped out with another Blade mission. A planet formerly under Galran rule had overthrown their former rulers, but in their anger, the rebels had destroyed all the electronic equipment. Like the Olkari, they’d been separated from their own technology during the occupation. Unlike the Olkari, though, they didn’t have the ability to make due with plants. Keith had called in Pidge, and in record time, she and Matt had restored communications within and without the planet.

Those two had been the most recent of the old team that Keith’s seen until now. Aside from Shiro, of course. Keith has video chats with Shiro at least once a month if not more often.

So when Keith arrives at the desert planet’s castle – not the castle ship, sadly that will never happen again – he’s more than a little nervous.

These are his friends, Keith reminds himself. Shiro had drilled this into him over their last video chat when Keith had finally been forced to admit why he hadn’t wanted to come to this party. No matter how long it’s been, these are his friends, his ‘brothers in arms’ or whatever. And with how slowly the universe has been moving now that Keith’s out there, working on the front lines as they try to return a universe back to a normal it hasn’t known for ten thousand years, he doubts anything has changed at all.

He can picture it now. Lance and Allura will be walking around holding hands, looking as perfect for each other as they had the last time he saw them. Pidge will groan at them behind their backs and Shiro will give them that soft approving look like he always does. Hunk and Lance will eventually start arguing loudly over the facts of whatever ridiculous story Lance will be telling them all. Pidge will side with Hunk, of course, and Shiro will pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. They may all be adults now, but Keith knows things can’t have changed that much.

After all, nothing else in the universe has.

He smooths his suit – a formal Galrean outfit Kolivan had provided for such occasions – and straightens up just as the door to the lift opens.

What he’d been expecting had been a small gathering of the paladins and their significant others. Maybe some family members and a few of the old MFE pilots. Regardless of the details, Keith had thought it would be a relatively small event. Nothing in the invitation implied otherwise.

What he actually sees when he walks out of the lift is a variety of alien races mingling together with barely any space between them while servers somehow slide past, bearing plates with drinks and hors d’oeuvres that look suspiciously like they were made by Hunk. It’s loud. Some people further in might be dancing – those on the edge are swaying at least – and there are far, _far_ more people in this ballroom than Keith had expected to see. He doesn’t recognize a single person in his vicinity.

Keith, despite his formal outfit, feels incredibly under-dressed.

He grabs a glass of nunvil as soon as a server gets within arm’s reach. He downs it in one go and sets it back on the tray right as the server slides away again. If he’d had any foresight, he would’ve grabbed two.

Immediately, a hand slams into his back and Keith almost spits his drink back up.

Almost.

“Dang Keith, you drank that crazy fast. Do all Galras do that? Is your tolerance higher than before?”

Keith turns to see Hunk standing next to him, wearing a two-piece suit that fits him almost as nicely as the broad grin splitting his cheeks.

“Hunk,” Keith greets, relief pouring down his back. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, man,” Hunk replies easily. “It’s been like...a year or something.”

“Something like that,” Keith agrees rather than correct him. “How’s the guild?”

“Good!” Hunk declares enthusiastically. “Great even. Every time a planet signs Allura’s treaty, we get new recipes, new ingredients, _and_ new chefs! It’s like instead of creating a coalition about peace we’re making a coalition of gourmet food. Heck, just the other day I...”

Hunk continues to talk, but Keith tunes him out as he searches the crowd for other familiar faces. Hunk had mentioned Allura, but Keith doesn’t see her or Lance anywhere yet. Unfortunately, Shiro is nowhere in sight either, and Keith is sure Pidge is hidden somewhere with Matt if she’s already here.

“Looking for the others?” Hunk asks. He doesn’t sound upset at the prospect of Keith not listening, and really Keith shouldn’t be surprised that he noticed; he’s never been the most subtle. Krolia and Kolivan have tried to train him on the art of infiltration several times, but Keith can’t say he was ever really good at it. He can sneak around fine, but if it comes to pretending to be something he isn’t, he can’t do it at all. Besides, with Allura’s Coalition growing as fast as it is, there’s no need for those skills anymore as far as he’s concerned.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Well I saw Pidge and Matt earlier,” Hunk offers. “I guess a new Killbot Phantasm came out – 8000 or something – and they were gonna try to find a room to set it up in so they could surprise Lance with it. I haven’t seen Shiro yet, but I figure you would know where he is more than I do. Allura and Lance had some meeting with someone or something. No idea what, if we’re being honest. You know how Coran just talks and talks and –”

“Hunk, Keith, it’s good to see you both.”

Shiro’s voice saves Keith from having to come up with a diplomatic response to Hunk’s ramble. Keith’s lips turn up in a smile upon seeing him, and a tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding drains out of his shoulders. “Shiro.” He’s wearing an immaculate three-piece suit which puts both Keith and Hunk to shame, but it doesn’t bother Keith at all. After all, the one person he would want to impress is taken already.

Hunk peers around Shiro, as if expecting to find someone behind him before asking, “Curtis not coming?”

Shiro scratches the back of his head. “No. We, uh, thought this was a smaller event so he wanted to give me a chance to catch up with everyone.”

“So did I,” Keith remarks. The two of them exchange a look, wordlessly communicating how disappointed they are in the turn of events.

Hunk, social butterfly that he is, doesn’t seem bothered at all. “That’s a shame. Pidge’s mom has been talking about engineering a plant that grows both peanuts _and_ fruit to make the perfect sandwich. He’ll love it.”

“I bet he will,” Shiro agrees, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Keith almost opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment his attention is immediately drawn across the ballroom to where a door has just opened. Allura walks in, looking more regal than ever before, followed closely by both Lance and Coran. The three of them are all wearing what Keith recognizes as traditional Altean formal wear, and Lance looks just as comfortable in it as the other two.

It’s been eight years, and Keith’s heart still skips a beat.

The entire room seems to have noticed the appearance of the three hosts, and a hush falls over the crowd. Allura steps forward as the entire room turns towards her in unison. “Thank you all for coming,” she starts without preamble. “It has been ten years since the threat of the Galra Empire was defeated. Since that time, we’ve been working to rebuild and restore the universe from ten thousand years of suffering. Without your help, we wouldn’t be where we are now.” She pauses for a moment, looking around the room at everyone. She meets Keith’s eyes, and her gaze lingers there are she continues. “I invite you all to join me tonight for this celebration of what we’ve accomplished so far and what we will continue to accomplish. Together.”

Her speech is met with loud applause. Allura steps back and goes to sit at a long table Keith hadn’t noticed earlier. In fact, everyone around him seems to be walking to long tables Keith just now sees are lining the edges of the room.

“Well, I’m off to sit with the guild,” Hunk declares. Keith shoots him a panicked look to which Hunk laughs. “I’m joking, Keith. I think we’re supposed to sit up there.” He points at the table next to the small one where Allura, Lance, and Coran have already taken their seats. Pidge and Matt are already at the table Hunk’s pointing at, the former squinting around the room, looking for them.

Keith isn’t sure if he’s relieved to have a place to sit near his friends or if he’s panicked over the fact that he has to sit where the attention is focused. Both, he figures. He feels both.

As a group, the three of them make their way to the front of the room. The moment Pidge finally spots them, she stands up and waves excitedly. Her hair’s longer than the last time Keith saw her. It’s just as long as Matt’s and tied back in a matching, messy ponytail that doesn’t match the formal outfit she’s wearing.

Not that Keith can talk, he thinks, touching his own hair self–consciously. It’s pulled back the best he can, but he’s not made for fancy events like this. It shouldn’t have been a big deal with just the group of them, but with this many people… He just hopes Lance won’t make a big deal out of it.

Of course, Keith has to actually talk to him for that to happen.

“Keith!” Pidge exclaims happily when they join her. “You made it!”

Hunk takes the open seat to her left while Shiro takes the one on Matt’s right. Keith’s eyes dart to the spot next to Shiro – not enough room, but they could all budge to make space – but Shiro meets his gaze and nods to the open seat next to Hunk. _You haven’t seen them in a long time,_ his eyes say.

Keith sits next to Hunk.

The upside of this seat is that he has an uninhibited view of the main table and can watch Lance all he wants. The downside is that Lance can do the same to him.

“Of course I made it,” Keith replies to Pidge, trying to focus his attention on the people in front of him here rather than just off to his left. If he just turns his head slightly... “I was invited.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t really mean anything,” Pidge points out, using her fork to gesture. “I’ve invited you to join us for dinner plenty of times and you haven’t come once.”

“That’s because your dinner invites are on Earth,” Keith answers as if it should be obvious.

Pidge stares at him, small frown between her brows. “You _can_ come back to Earth whenever you want. You know that, right?”

Keith is thankfully saved from needing to answer by the arrival of food. The server goes first to Hunk, proving once and for all that Hunk’s guild is the one supplying the food. Keith shouldn’t have expected anything different.

He’s been in space long enough to recognize some of the dishes that are brought over, and really Keith isn’t all that picky with what he eats, but he’s glad Hunk’s there all the same. Hunk’s able to easily identify and wave away any food unsafe for humans. And even some food that just doesn’t taste good.

Keith loads up his plate while Hunk distracts Pidge with some topic related to genetic mutation and Shiro and Matt catch up in the background. No longer at the center of his former paladins’ attention, Keith uses his chance to look over at the main table.

Allura has a full plate of food in front of her but is ignoring it in favor of talking to Coran. It’s remarkably similar to back when they were all still paladins and had just defeated Allura. They were trying to figure out what to do next: how do you bring peace to a universe which had been ruled by a tyrant for ten thousand years?

 _All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy_ , Lance had chided Allura. She and Keith had been talking, strategizing really, and neither of them had been eating the food in front of them.

 _I am not a boy,_ Allura had countered, sounding irritated. _And my name is not Jack_.

 _It’s a saying, sweetheart,_ Lance had replied. And when Allura had opened her mouth to argue, he’d shoved in a spoonful of goo while winking at Keith. _It means you shouldn’t work all the time_.

Keith blinks, mentally shaking himself back to reality.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Lance’s head turns from where he’s eating and makes direct eye contact with Keith. His hair’s shorter than it had been eight years ago, and it’s buzzed short on the side closest to Keith. Lance grins crookedly at him, raising his glass of what Keith assumes is nunvil. Keith raises his eyebrow in response, but Lance simply takes a sip before his attention is pulled into the conversation between Allura and Coran, and he turns away from Keith again.

Keith tries not to think about it too much and goes back to his food.

But then it happens again.

And a third time when dessert is brought out.

Keith is trying his best to keep his attention on his food and friends, but he can’t help it. His gaze keeps getting drawn to Lance. And every time, Lance looks right back at him.

The fourth time it happens is after the meal is over. People are starting to get up and move about, once again mingling and talking. Keith makes eye contact with Lance, and Lance gestures his head towards the door before getting up and walking towards it. 

That’s as good an invitation as any.

Keith stands up, ignoring the conversation Hunk and Matt are having over Pidge’s head. “I’ll be back,” he excuses himself. Shiro gives him a weird look as Keith slips away, but aside from that none of them question it or try to follow him.

The door Lance had gestured to is on the other side of the main table Allura and the others had been sitting at. It’s not far, but it’s just enough that Keith wishes he’d taken his stealth training more seriously. Miraculously, he manages to avoid being spotted by Coran and Allura, but it’s pure dumb luck rather than anything Keith does. He takes one look back to make sure he’s still not being followed before sliding through the door he’d seen Lance disappear through.

To his relief, the door leads out onto a large, mostly empty balcony. A few couples and one small group are out there, but all of them are engrossed in their own conversations and seem completely uninterested in him. Keith spares a brief moment to marvel at how few people he actually recognizes here as he scans the area for Lance. In saving the planets, he hadn’t done much of the diplomatic part. That’s probably why he doesn’t recognize anyone here.

Keith follows the balcony, even as it curves around the building. Eventually he sees a lone figure leaning against the railing and looking out at the sunset on the horizon.

He’d recognize that back anywhere.

Keith walks up to the railing and leans against it as well, leaving a few inches between his arms and Lance’s.

“Pidge said you weren’t coming,” Lance remarks, not even glancing over.

“I was invited,” Keith replies, echoing his words to Pidge from earlier.

“You’re invited a lot of places and don’t go,” Lance counters, voice still casual.

Keith looks down at his hands. They’re bare tonight. He still has his old gloves, his dad’s gloves, but they’re tucked in his bag, not formal enough for the event. He wishes he’d worn them now; he needs a string to fiddle with to distract him from how awkward it just is _talking_ to Lance. Instead, he folds his fingers together and squeezes his knuckles tight. “The Blade is busy.”

“I know. You guys always show up to help the planets who join us. After we leave.” Keith feels the gaze against the side of his head and turns to meet Lance’s eyes. “There a reason you’ve been avoiding me for eight years, Kogane?”

The way Lance says it is so petulant, so _Lance_ that Keith can’t help but smile. “If I were avoiding you, I wouldn’t have come here.”

“True…” Lance concedes. “Unless you were hoping to avoid me in the crowd.”

Keith shakes his head, smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t know the crowd would be here. Besides, you know what I meant.”

Lance shrugs. “New clothes, new Keith. For all I know, you’ve mastered the art of lying after all these years.”

“I’m a terrible liar.”

“Only a good liar would say that.”

Keith laughs outright, even though it’s not actually funny. “You got me there.”

Lance pushes away from the railing, turning so he’s leaning against it with the sunset as his backdrop. He returns his focus back to Keith and asks, voice serious, “You’re really not avoiding me though?”

“No,” Keith says softly. “I’m not avoiding you.”

He’s no longer sure if he’s telling the truth.

Silence falls between them. For the second time that night, Keith’s reminded of a similar time years ago. Before Honerva, before the Coalition started in earnest, back when Lance and Allura had their first date. Lance had been the one looking for him then. He’d wanted to talk to Keith for some reason, claimed to need help impressing Allura. So Keith had swallowed the dinner invitation on the tip of his tongue and spent the evening comforting Lance instead.

Sometimes Keith still chokes on those words, as if they’ve been stuck in his throat for ten years.

“How is Allura?” Keith asks suddenly, squashing his thoughts before they can spiral out of control.

“She’s good,” he answers easily. “Queen of New Altea. Leader of the Coalition. You know – the usual.”

“I meant how are the two of you?” Keith winces inwardly at his own awkward words.

Lance blinks. He stares at Keith with an expression Keith can’t identify in the low light. Lance stays so silent that Keith opens his mouth to repeat his question, positive that he can’t have asked it out loud, but he’s interrupted before he has the chance. 

“General?”

Both of them turn to the newcomer. It’s an Altean Keith doesn’t recognize. Someone from Lotor’s colony, Keith guesses. Or maybe an Altean who had remained hidden somewhere else in the galaxy all this time. “The queen requests your presence,” they add.

“I’ll be there,” Lance replies.

The Altean inclines their head in a slight bow and steps away, leaving the two of them alone again. Lance pushes himself off the balcony’s railing, stretching his arms overhead. “Well, duty calls,” he declares. He lowers his arms with a sigh and looks at Keith once more. “You leaving tonight or hanging around?”

“I’m staying a few days.” Because Keith had thought the event would be smaller, he’d requested the entire week off from the Blade. To his surprise, neither Kolivan nor Krolia had fought him on it. He supposes that if it weren’t for Voltron they’d all still be fighting a war rather than providing relief in the aftermath. That must be why they’re okay with it.

“Cool,” Lance says with a nod. “Meet me tomorrow morning in the gym? We can train like old times.”

“Sure,” Keith agrees.

Lance nods. “See ya then,” he says in farewell before walking away, back towards the party.

“See ya,” Keith whispers to the empty air.

–––

Keith stays out on the balcony longer, watching the planet’s sunset. This one is slower than the one on Earth; the sun hovers in position above the horizon long enough for Keith to appreciate all the colors painting the sky before he decides he should go back in and at least try to socialize. The party is still full swing when he returns, and Keith is proven correct in his assumption earlier: there is, in fact, enough room for people to dance in the center of the ballroom.

Keith tries to slip back to where he’d been seated before, hoping that Pidge at least would still be there, but he doesn’t manage to hold onto the luck which had gotten him outside unnoticed. He’s waylaid in turn by leaders of Braxis, Chilbane, and Krolboar just to name a few. Keith manages to smile and nod, hoping he appears grateful for their praise. The Blade helped all three planets return to normal – and more, of course – and the leaders want Keith to be damn sure that he knows just how much they appreciated it.

Talking with strangers has always been uncomfortable for him, but tonight it’s even worse than normal. Just about everyone he’s ever helped save – so everyone who joined the Coalition – is here, and that along with the loud music and his stuff clothing is enough to make him light-headed. He manages to keep the conversations short, filling in the gaps they leave between sentences with “yes,” “of course,” and “it’s really Kolivan you should thank for that.” Whenever someone else joins in the conversation, Keith uses the distraction to slip away.

After what feels like a thousand of the same conversation – even though he knows objectively it’s only a dozen or so – he finally spots Hunk through the crowd. Keith makes a beeline straight for him, officially done with talking to anyone who _isn’t_ a former paladin, when his arm is grabbed. Keith spins, ready to deck whoever it is, before he catches a glimpse of messy brown hair. Pidge.

“This way,” Pidge whispers conspiratorially. Keith doesn’t argue or fight it when she tugs him away. He takes her lead, letting her steer the way between throngs of people. She’s a master at it, much better than Keith himself is, weaving around people just right so that no one can get more than a single glance at them before they’ve disappeared from their view. They duck under one of the Coalition flags and disappear behind a door which had been hidden there, entering an empty hallway. Pidge finally releases his arm, though she continues to lead him purposefully.

Without sparing even a single glance back to the door, Keith follows. “So,” he says. “Where are we going?”

“Matt and I set up Killbot Phantasom Genesis. I was hoping Lance would be able to get away but...” she shrugs.

“Yeah. He seems. Busy.”

Pidge gives a half nod to that before opening a small door on their left that Keith had assumed was a broom closet. But Pidge slips inside, so Keith follows after her. What they enter is a narrower side corridor, something Keith assumes is the servant’s hallway. “I mean, we knew he’s kinda a big deal now,” Pidge continues the conversation. “What with being General of the entire Coalition and all. Still wish he could’ve taken off a day.” The pout is clear in her voice, but Keith tactfully decides not to point it out.

They stop at another door and Pidge leads him into a room that she and Matt had clearly set up exactly for this purpose. There’s a couch in the middle of the room and a screen is projecting the start screen of what is clearly titled Killbot Genesis. The moment Keith closes the door behind him, Matt’s head pops over the back of the couch. He grins. “Hey Keith,” Matt greets easily before turning to Pidge. “Any luck with the others?”

“Lance and Allura were talking to someone about something boringly important. And Hunk’s rambling about food to anyone who gets remotely within hearing distance.” Pidge vaults over the back of the couch, landing on the cushion with a hard sigh. “Where’d Shiro go?” she asks, leaning against Matt.

“He said something about making a call.”

Keith takes a spot on the opposite side of the couch as the siblings. The setup is a lot more refined than the one Pidge had first made in the castle of lions, but Keith wouldn’t expect anything less. He’s sure that she has more than a few new tricks up her sleeve, after all. Pidge tosses a controller at Keith, which he catches out of instinct. “Bet I can kick your ass in arena,” she remarks as if he should know what that means.

Keith snorts. Video games have never been his thing. He’ll be lucky if he can get his character to walk in the right direction. “You’re on,” he agrees regardless, and Pidge’s eyes light up at the challenge.

As expected, Keith lasts barely a minute. Regardless, Pidge challenges him to a rematch. Then another. She gets bored when Keith doesn’t put up a fight and can’t manage to launch a single attack. He passes the controller over to Matt, relieved to let him play instead. Keith relaxes back against the couch, staring at the screen without registering the images as he lets the Holts’ voices wash over him. It’s been too long since he’s heard them.

It’s been too long since he’s heard any of them.

Keith loses track of the time before the door opens, accompanied by the smell of something heavenly. “Alright, who ordered space nachos?” Hunk calls. The plate floats over top of them, and moments later Hunk plops down on the couch in the vast space between Keith and Pidge. “How’s Killbot Nine Million?”

“Genesis, Hunk,” Pidge replies without looking away from the screen. “And shut up. I’m kicking Matt’s ass.”

“That’s what you think,” Matt replies. His character spins, kicking up a tornado. Something happens on the screen that Keith doesn’t understand, followed by Pidge chucking her controller at Matt’s head.

“You cheated.”

“You’re predictable.”

“I want a rematch.”

Hunk chuckles, holding out the plate of nachos to Keith. “Good to see some things never change. Nacho?”

“Thanks.” Keith takes one. “Lance and Allura still in there?”

“Uh, yeah, probably? There was a line or something of people wanting to thank Allura personally, so I doubt they’ll be able to get away for a while.”

Keith holds the chip in his fingers staring hard at it as if it will do anything aside from be a chip. “Lance probably likes that anyway. He was always a fan of parades and stuff,” he says before popping the chip into his mouth. Like everything else Hunk makes, it’s delicious.

Hunk chuckles. “I’m pretty sure he got over that after the first couple of years.”

Keith chooses not to argue with that. He hasn’t seen Lance for eight years now, and even when he had seen him on a regular basis, Hunk was always the one who knew him best. Though Allura probably has him beat now. “How are they?” Keith asks, words escaping his lips before he can think better of it. 

“Who? Lance and Allura?” Hunk asks. Keith nods. “Same as normal, I guess,” Hunk remarks casually. “I think they get stressed from all the responsibility; you know? Not sure I could handle it.”

Keith shakes his head. “No, I mean...” he gestures vaguely, trying to get the real question he’s asking across. But Hunk stays quiet for so long that Keith thinks he failed to get his point across. He turns to look at Hunk, and meets a concerned stare. “What?”

“Keith do you –”

“Nooo!!!” Matt’s dramatic wail drowns out the rest of Hunk’s question. It’s immediately followed by: “I could hear you all the way down the hallway,” as Shiro walks in.

Hunk stares at him a moment longer before his attention is pulled away by Pidge. “Pass the nachos,” she says, reaching over him to where Keith’s holding the plate. “Keith’s hoarding them.”

“Well Keith hasn’t had my nachos for a while. He should get more.”

“I don’t mind,” he tells them softly, releasing his grip and letting the plate float over to Pidge. Satisfied, she sits back upright and munches away at the chips. “C’mon, Hunk. You owe me at least five matches at this point.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Hunk whines. But Pidge, unsurprisingly, succeeds in dragging him in to play, and Hunk moves from where he’s sitting by Keith over to Matt so he can “get tips on how to play.” The empty space is almost immediately filled by Shiro who – after stealing two chips off Pidge’s plate, much to her irritation – joins in their debate on if Matt helping Hunk counts as cheating.

That leaves Keith alone with his thoughts while their voices flow in and out of his head. His thoughts are quickly spiraling down a path he’d been so careful to keep them off of in the days leading up to this. He’d been so good for so long. Eight years alone in space – he should’ve been over this by now. But his mind whirs while the rest of them move from arguing about cheating in video games to arguing about whether or not cheese made from an Earth cow on a space farm counts as ‘space cheese.’ He’s pulled into the argument by an elbow to his side, courtesy of Shiro, and Keith finally rips his mind away from thoughts of Lance, grateful for the distraction.

By the time they disband, several hours have passed. Pidge and Matt have beaten everyone in the Killbot Genesis arena at least three times each, though no conclusion was made on who, between the two of them, is the true champion. Their other arguments also go equally unsolved. Matt and Pidge hover alternately behind whoever was challenging the other sibling, and the definition of space cheese remains vague throughout the entire night. Neither Allura nor Lance have appeared by the time Shiro excuses himself, claiming that the journey had exhausted him.

“That’s cause you’re old,” Pidge declares, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

She and Matt are still playing, but rather than the whirling activity that had been on the screen earlier, their characters move slowly – often not towards each other at all. They’ve long since abandoned the couch, sitting closer to the projection on the wall with a couple pillows between them. Hunk’s already passed out on the couch, snoring with this head against Keith’s shoulder. Keith pushes him as gently as possible, but Hunk tips too far and topples over onto the empty cushions. Keith flinches, but Hunk doesn’t do a thing aside from let out a loud snore.

He sneaks away from the couch before the drowsing Pidge and Matt can notice and follows Shiro into the hall. “You’re not that old,” he says the minute it’s just the two of them.

“Neither are you,” Shiro points out. He nods to the room they’d just come out from. “Neither are they,” he adds.

Keith shrugs. It doesn’t always feel that way, but he supposes he can’t argue if he’s gonna claim Shiro isn’t old.

“You okay?”

Keith glances back to make sure the door is still closed. “This isn’t exactly what I thought it would be,” he admits.

Shiro tilts his head, question clear in his gaze.

“I thought it would be smaller,” Keith continues. “Just us.”

Shiro nods. “I don’t mind seeing everyone celebrating the Coalition, but I thought so too. I would’ve brought Curtis if I’d known it would be this big.”

Keith doesn’t mention that he’s glad Shiro came without Curtis. He doesn’t dislike the other man in any way, but he hasn’t seen Shiro – just Shiro – in person in a long time. He’d prefer it really if everyone who isn’t a former paladin or Coran would leave so they could be back to the way things were, even for just a night.

They start walking down the hallways away from the ballroom and towards the room Keith had been shown to when he’d arrived. To Keith’s relief, Shiro’s seems to be in the same direction. They slip into a comfortable silence, and Keith’s shoulders finally relax for the first time since he’d arrived. He should go back to Earth sometime, even if it’s just to visit Shiro. He’s missed this.

Shiro stops at a door several before Keith’s. On instinct, Keith stops as well. Shiro stands there for a moment before saying, “You know, you can always talk to me. About anything.”

“I know,” Keith agrees softly.

With a nod, Shiro opens his door and disappears inside, leaving Keith alone with his thoughts.

–––

Lance is already there in the morning when Keith finally manages to find the training gym. He has a sword in his hand and is battling against an Altean gladiator. Gone are the formal clothes from yesterday, replaced with a t-shirt and training pants. Keith leans back against the wall, watching Lance for a while as he trains. He’s gotten more muscular since the last time Keith had seen him. It’s distracting.

He waits until Lance lands the killing blow on the gladiator before announcing his presence. “Your form’s gotten a lot better.”

Lance turns, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his brow. “I certainly hope so. It’s been ten years.”

“Eight,” Keith corrects as he walks to the wall, glancing at his options. He grabs the sword closest to the luxite one he’s grown used to and weighs it in his hand. A little heavier, but that’s to be expected. “But some people never get over bad habits.”

For some reason, Lance snorts. “Well I’m not some people.”

Keith turns, sword in hand. “Never said you were.”

Lance adjusts his grip on the hilt. “Just come over here and fight me, samurai.”

Keith grins and steps away from the weapons rack. Lance handles the sword as if it’s an extension of his arm. Krolia would be pleased. Without warning, Keith swings, going wide just in case. He hadn’t needed to worry; Lance parries the blow without pause, pushing against Keith with strength Keith hadn’t been prepared for. Keith takes a step to the side, further from the weapons against the wall.

Lance follows up with another swing, large and showy. Keith counters it easily, pushing Lance’s blade away. They’re getting a feel for each other’s strength, nothing more. Lance takes a couple steps to the side, leading Keith to the center of the room.

“Do you still shoot?” he asks as they circle each other, neither making the next move.

“When the occasion calls for it. You want to fight or talk, Kogane?”

Keith grins. “Fight.”

“Good.” Lance’s eyes narrow, and that’s the only warning Keith gets before Lance stabs straight for his chest. Keith barely manages step aside in time. Lance goes for it again, a shot right towards his heart, but Keith’s sword meets his in time. Keith steps to the side as Lance flips his wrist, changing the angle and attacking again. Keith ducks and lowers his sword at the same time, aiming for Lance’s leg, but Lance jumps away before he can connect.

It continues like this. One of them attacks, the other parries or dodges before returning their own attack. Keith had half expected the training session to end quickly; that Lance would be just as lazy and unpracticed as before. To his surprise, though, Lance has improved drastically from his time as a paladin, both in focus and ability. It’s only because of Keith’s talent and years of training that he can keep up. He hasn’t been taking his own sessions as seriously lately, not needing to fight as often.

That’s what gives Lance the upper hand. Where Keith’s out of practice, Lance clearly isn’t. He uses his superior cardio to his advantage, wearing Keith out with a barrage of attacks that require his entire attention to block.

But Keith’s been training with the Blade of Marmora for at least twelve years. He may not be at his peak, but it’s not something so easily forgotten. Lance, in his focus on beating Keith, leaves an opening.

On his next blow, Keith blocks with less strength than before, his blade sliding towards the hilt of the other as Lance’s momentum carries him forward. For a moment, Keith catches a glimpse of surprise in Lance’s eyes.

He’s so close he can count every eyelash, so close he can see a thin scar cutting through the buzzed hair on Lance’s head. So close Keith could lean in…

The moment passes and just before they can collide, Keith ducks down, stepping around Lance while the former red paladin stumbles forward. Keith taps the back of Lance’s shoulder with the flat of his sword.

“I win.”

He might’ve actually pissed Lance off, Keith realizes when his words are met with nothing but silence.

“Lance?” Keith asks, suddenly nervous.

Slowly, Lance straightens up, back still to Keith. When he finally turns around, he’s wearing a wide smile. Something about it looks off, but before Keith can put his finger on what it is, Lance says, “Wouldn’t expect anything less from the leader of the Blades.”

Keith frowns. “I’m not their leader.”

Lance shrugs, brushing past him. “That’s not what Kolivan said.”

Keith turns to watch as Lance walks over to the bench against the opposite wall. He grabs a bottle and gulps down the water as if he hasn’t drunk anything in a long time. Keith’s eyes are frozen on the way Lance’s Adams apple bobs with each swallow. Finally, Lance lowers it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He meets Keith’s staring eyes before Keith can pretend that he hadn’t been openly ogling him. “Or at least he said you would be,” Lance says.

“You talked to Kolivan?” is all Keith can think of as a response.

Lance frowns. “Yeah? He sends updates after each mission.”

“Why would he update you?” Keith asks stupidly.

Lance raises his eyebrow. “Who do you think assigns your missions?”

Keith had always thought Kolivan was the one who came up with it, but now that he thinks about it: how had Kolivan known which planets were ready to join the Coalition? “I don’t know,” he admits. “I never really thought about it.”

The look Lance gives him is the same puzzling one from the balcony. “I always wondered why you weren’t in the briefings if you’re taking over from him.”

Irritation towards his superior flows through him even though Kolivan isn’t here. “I told him I don’t want to be the leader.”

“Why not? You’d be good at it.”

Keith snorts.

“Hey, I’m serious.”

He opens his mouth to retort but closes it again when he sees how earnest Lance is. Instead, he says, “You really think that. Don’t you?”

“Course I do. You were a good leader for Voltron. You’d be good for the Blades too.”

_The Black Lion wouldn’t choose anyone it didn’t feel was worthy to lead Voltron. I respect its choice. And you should too._

He doesn’t have a response for that, so instead Keith lets the conversation die. “You’re a general now, huh?” he asks.

Lance laughs, as if he can tell exactly what Keith’s doing. “You bet I am. General and Commander of the Coalition forces. Personally, I think Allura had someone else in mind when she made the position, but that guy turned her down.” Lance winks at him. “Lucky me, huh?”

Keith frowns, not sure who Lance means until Lance saves him. “Shiro. I think she offered it to him first, but he said he was done fighting any battles outside his marriage.”

“That makes sense.” Keith nods. “Shiro quit the military pretty fast after we captured Honerva.”

“I told her she was barking up the wrong tree but,” Lance shrugs. “She wanted to try anyway.”

This is his chance. He has an opening on the topic of Allura. Keith can ask about them now without it seeming like it’s coming out of nowhere. The question gets caught in his throat, his lips suddenly paralyzed, and the chance disappears.

“You think Hunk arranged breakfast yet?” Lance asks, passing Keith and putting his sword back on the rack.

This time, Keith’s the one who snorts. “Hunk had all the meals arranged before he even stepped foot on this planet.”

The grin Lance sends his way is crooked, just like the one on the balcony. “True.” He waits for Keith to put his own sword back before leading them out of the gym.

“Keith!” The exclamation meets them before the doors close behind them. Allura’s striding towards them, smiling at them both.

Keith returns her smile easily. “Allura,” he greets in return. “It’s good to see you.”

Her smile brightens. “You as well. Pidge told me you weren’t coming.”

“Pidge seems to have told a lot of people that,” Lance remarks.

“Lance,” Allura turns her attention towards him as if noticing him for the first time. “Coran was looking for you. He wants to talk to you about the negotiations with the Graol.”

Lance groans loudly, sounding just like he had before. “I already told him I want nothing to do with it. They have slimy tentacles that they like to –”

“Lance,” Allura interrupts sternly. “Talk to Coran.”

With a loud sigh, Lance shoves his bottle into Keith’s chest. Keith catches it on impulse. “Fine,” Lance grouses. “But I won’t like it.” He steps away, giving a little bow to Allura. “Your majesty.” And then he’s jogging down the hall.

Allura rolls her eyes, before turning her attention back to Keith. “I am glad you came.”

“I am too,” Keith admits. “The party last night was a surprise.”

Allura falls in step alongside him as the two of them walk in the direction Keith sincerely hopes is the kitchen. To his surprise, Allura responds with a groan reminiscent of Lance’s. “Yes, that was Coran’s idea. _Make the ten-year anniversary a celebration of the Coalition as a whole will bring everyone together_ ,” she exaggerates her voice, clearly attempting to sound like Coran. “It was a nice idea, but it meant I was forced to spend the entire night in formal attire, greeting delegates from planets whose names I cannot possibly remember.”

Keith laughs. “Then why did you do it?”

“Because Coran was right, loathe though I am to admit it. It fosters a sense of familiarity. My mother used to insist upon the same things, even when my father wanted nothing more than to bond with his fellow paladins.” She gives him a sharp look. “But do not dare tell anyone that. Lance is under the impression this was my idea. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was just as against it as he was.”

Keith mimes zipping his lips. “I won’t tell a soul,” he assures her.

“Excellent.” They reach a crossroads and both of them slow to a stop in unison. Allura looks back and forth at the three options in front of them before asking, “Where are we going?”

“I was hoping to the kitchen, but I have no idea where it is,” Keith confesses.

“Quiznak,” Allura curses. “These hallways are as confusing as a dredarian cave.”

Keith’s lips quirk up. That had been a better impression of Coran than the one before, even if it was unintentional this time. “We could always call someone.”

“We are not _calling_ someone,” Allura argues. “I am the queen of – oh thank heavens. Rendav!” She calls. Keith looks down the hall to their right to see the Altean who called Lance away the night before walking towards them. “Where is the kitchen?”

Rendav slows to a stop directly in front of Allura, bowing before replying. “The kitchen is to the hallway on your left. But, your majesty, the Arusian king refuses to leave without a personal farewell from you.”

“Quiznak,” Allura curses again. She turns to Keith, grabbing his hand in a quick squeeze. “You are staying longer, aren’t you?”

“The week,” Keith confirms.

“Good. Be sure to pull me away from any meetings Coran tries to make me host.” She releases his hand, turning back to the other Altaen. “Very well. Take me to the Arusians.” They walk back down the hallway Rendav had come from, leaving Keith to head off to the kitchen.

As he’d expected, Hunk’s already inside, cooking up something that smells amazing. He has his back to the door while he works, so Keith heads to the already occupied table. Shiro is sitting on the side facing him, wearing glasses while he scrolls down what Keith assumes is news on his datapad. Across from Shiro, one of the Holts is flopped over the counter, hair covering their face. Keith pulls out the stool next to them, drawing Shiro’s attention.

He looks up, smiling when he sees Keith. “Morning. Coffee? Hunk set up the pot.” He picks up his mug and gestures with it to one of the counters against the wall where a pot is still brewing.

Thank the quiznacks.

Keith gets up immediately and grabs a mug, filling it with what he hopes is Earth coffee before returning to the table. “Thanks,” he says, sitting back on the stool. “You didn’t shave?”

Shiro feels his chin self–consciously. “Curtis usually does it. Does it look bad?”

The Holt next to Keith groans. “You’re disgustingly domestic,” they groan, voice revealing themself as Pidge.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your own dating life,” Shiro remarks without pause. “You’re one to talk.”

Pidge sits up. “Who told you about that?” she demands.

“If I revealed my source it wouldn’t be reliable anymore.”

“It’s Matt isn’t it?” Pidge asks. She pulls a datapad out from her pant pocket and starts rapid fire typing on it. “He’s dead meat. I didn’t tell Mom when he and Nyma –”

“Pidge,” Shiro warns.

Pidge responds by sticking her tongue out at him.

“Where is Matt?” Keith asks, hoping to change the topic from Pidge’s life before she decides to murder everyone in the vicinity.

Pidge shrugs. “Probably somewhere in the Olkari system by now.”

“Oh. He’s not staying?”

Pidge shakes her head.

Keith’s a little sad to hear that. Outside of the paladins and the Blades, Matt is one of the few people he feels comfortable around. They’d become friends back when he’d first left Voltron to join the blades, and even now Matt will still message him with ridiculous rock formations he finds on alien planets.

Usually penis shaped ones.

“According to Coran, most people aside from the paladins should be leaving now,” Shiro informs him. “Their invitations only included the party from last night.”

Plates of food float over from where Hunk had been working, sitting in front of them. “Talk later, eat now,” Hunk informs them. “This is a new recipe I’ve been wanting to try out. The eggs are from –”

“Looks great,” Shiro interrupts before Hunk can put them all off their appetites.

Keith’s immensely happy for that; the food is amazing. He’d expect nothing less from Hunk, but it’s been so long since he’d had Hunk’s cooking – aside from last night’s nachos – that he practically inhales his food. He’s not the only one either; Pidge doesn’t look over at her datapad once, instead focus entirely on her food.

“Aww man, I missed Hunk-breakfast?” Lance’s voice greets them from the kitchen entrance. Keith tells his stomach to settle down and not vomit up the food Hunk had just made them.

“Snooze you lose,” Pidge remarks, finishing off her last bite.

Hunk motions with his spatula to a plate next to him. “Yours is right here, Lance.”

“You’re the best,” Lance remarks, walking over and leaning against Hunk’s shoulder. “Marry me?”

“Ha-ha,” Hunk responds as if they’ve had this conversation before. “Eat.”

“Your loss.” Lance picks up his plate, not seeming bothered at all. He carries it over and plops down next to Shiro, giving Keith an unhindered view of him. He’s freshly showered, wearing a change of clothes that look like a cross between the Altean clothes Allura and Coran used to wear and Earth clothing. “Morning, Shiro.”

“Good to see you, Lance,” Shiro responds. Unlike Pidge and Keith, he’s eating Hunk’s food at a normal, human pace. “How have you been?”

“Oh, same old same old. You know how it is. Oh, speaking of, there was a lake on the last planet we went to. It was surrounded by trees, nice spot for a cabin. You guys would love it. I forgot the name though. Coran would know.”

Shiro chuckles. “Thanks.”

“What?” Pidge remarks. “No special planet for me and Keith? You didn’t even say hi to us.”

“You haven’t had enough coffee yet for it to be safe,” Lance points out. “And Keith and I trained together earlier.”

Shiro gives Keith a look which he steadfastly ignores, turning to Pidge instead. “Pidge, just get some more coffee.”

She grumbles but eventually gets up and does just that. Lance mouths ‘what was that about?’ to which Keith responds with ‘Shiro was making fun of her earlier.’ Lance frowns like it was too hard to understand, and Keith is about to repeat himself when he’s kicked under the table. He gives Shiro a sharp look, but Shiro’s innocently drinking from his own mug.

“How are the Blades anyway?” Pidge asks, taking the seat by Keith again. “They make you their leader yet?”

“Hey, Hunk, what are these eggs from?” Lance asks loudly before Keith can answer.

“They’re from a –”

“I don’t want to know,” Shiro interrupts. “I just ate them and I don’t want to know.”

Pidge nudges Keith. “Keith –”

“You should shower,” Lance interrupts. “The showers are back by the bedrooms. They’re pretty nice. Hot water for ages.”

Keith’s shoulders, which had tightened at Pidge’s question, sag in relief. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Lance.”

Lance gives him the crooked grin again, but Keith doesn’t linger. He leaves before Pidge can ask any more questions that he doesn’t have good answers to.

–––

The showers are just as nice as Lance had promised they would be. With no Kolivan demanding he leave, he spends extra time inside, letting the hot water run down his back. Hot showers aren’t something he’d ever thought he’d enjoy, but as the muscles in his back slowly unknot, he has to admit that he might’ve underestimated them back when he’d still been a paladin.

The bathroom’s equipped with a blow dryer too, and Keith takes advantage of it. His hair’s gotten too long, he thinks as he drags a comb through it. It’s long enough that he braids it back, the same way Kolivan does. He doesn’t even remember the last time he had it cut. Lance would be appalled.

Once Keith is finally dressed, complete with his old gloves safely back on his hands, he finally leaves the bathroom.

Only to find Lance waiting.

“Man, you took your sweet time in there, didn’t you?”

“Lance.”

Lance raises his eyebrow at Keith. “The one and only.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, obviously.”

“Right,” Keith agrees slowly. “Did we have plans?”

Lance shrugs. “I didn’t have plans. Did you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Cool. There’s a market in the city. I heard it’s out of this world.”

Keith stares at him flatly. Lance’s grin grows wider and wider the longer Keith stays silent. “Did Shiro tell you to say that?” Keith asks finally.

Lance laughs. “Oh man. He told me you wouldn’t be amused. That’s awesome, I don’t think I’ve seen such a perfect impression of Kolivan before.”

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles. He passes by Lance, carrying his workout clothes back to his room. The door shuts behind him, separating him from Lance. Keith tosses his clothes in the corner and takes a deep breath. This is just like old times, he tries to convince himself. They’ll go out with the other paladins and have fun. It’ll be just like they haven’t been apart for eight years. Then they’ll leave and Keith will go back to his life where he tells himself that the people he sleeps with don’t all have long limbs and cocky personalities. Because they don’t.

He just can’t think of an example right now.

When he leaves the room, Lance is leaning against the wall next to the door. “So we’re going to the market?” Keith asks.

“Only if you want,” Lance responds. “I’m not gonna force you to go anywhere. We could always just hang out here and you can watch me kick Pidge’s ass at Killbot.”

“The market sounds good.”

“Awesome, let’s go.”

The castle is no less confusing now than it had been before, so Keith has no idea where they’re going until Lance leads them outside. Keith glances around, not seeing any of the other paladins. “The others not coming?” he asks, not daring to get his hopes up.

“Did you want them to?”

The answer, if Keith is honest, isn’t so easily defined. He wants to spend time with all of them again. He’s happy with the Blade, happy that he found his mother and finally gets to be with her. But he’s missed _this_ family too.

On the other hand, he desperately wants time alone with Lance, even though he’s sure it won’t lead anywhere.

“Just us sounds nice,” Keith responds lamely.

Lance gives him that look again. The one Keith can’t identify. He stares back, hoping that Lance will explain himself this time, but instead Lance just shakes his head. “C’mon. There are some shops I’ve heard close if you get there after midday.”

–––

The market is packed.

Almost immediately, he and Lance get separated. Two Unilu push between the as soon as they enter, and just like that Keith loses track of Lance entirely. He curses himself for letting them get split up within two seconds of their bonding time, but before he can lay into himself, fingers slide between his own. He looks up and meets Lance’s blue eyes. “So we don’t get separated,” Lance murmurs.

Keith squeezes Lance’s hand with his own, warmth rushing from his head all the way to his toes. “Good plan, sharpshooter.”

Lance smiles softly at the nickname, but it disappears the second another group of aliens bumps into them. Keith tightens his hold on Lance, and Lance returns the favor. “I didn’t realize it would be this crowded,” Lance grouses.

“Maybe some shops are less busy?” Keith suggests. “We’re in the entrance still.”

“Maybe,” Lance concedes, but he doesn’t seem convinced. 

Without releasing hands, they move forward into the market. It’s a bit like swimming, but instead of moving through water they’re moving through a crowd. This. This is why Keith hates going to planets with cities. He and Lance can’t talk because it’s too loud. They can’t stop and look at any of the stalls because they keep getting pushed along by the aliens around them. They can’t enjoy themselves because they’re suffocated by the sheer number of bodies around them.

Maybe they should’ve stayed in the castle and played video games with Pidge.

“This way looks clear,” Lance says. His voice carries over the noise of the crowd somehow, despite him not shouting. Maybe it’s because they’re so close together. Keith has no idea what Lance is looking at or what he thinks he sees, so he lets Lance lead them. Sure enough, the crowd thins, and Lance pulls them around a corner where Keith can finally catch his breath.

“Thanks,” Keith sighs, closing his eyes. He leans back against the wall, reveling in the shade. He’s not winded from walking or even exhausted from the heat of the sun beating down on the market street. It’s that crowds have never been his forte and, though he’s gotten better, they’re still overwhelming.

The weight of Lance’s hand leaves his, forcing Keith to open his eyes. Lance hasn’t moved away from him, but he’s looking down the shaded alley they’re in. There are market stalls still present here, but the patrons are in the tens rather than the hundreds like the stalls on the main street. There’s plenty of room to walk, and it’s noticeably quieter with the walls blocking the sound from the main thoroughfare.

“What’s over there?” he asks when Lance continues to stare away from him.

Lance turns back to him, that crooked grin back on his face. “I found something,” he announces. And with that, he’s off.

Keith doesn’t stand there and wait. His curiosity peaks, so he immediately pushes away from the wall to follow him. They’re still in the alleyway, luckily, and the shop that Lance has zeroed in on has scarves and hats and belts all hanging around it. Most of them are clearly designed for other species, judging by their shapes and the number of holes for extra appendages, but there are a few items that look vaguely humanoid.

“Looking for something in particular?” The shopkeeper steps forward as soon as Lance reaches the table. They aren’t Unalu at least, so the chances of Lance getting swindled out of all his cash decreases drastically from that alone.

“Yeah,” Lance replies, not missing a beat. “Do you sell gloves? That fit human hands I mean.”

Keith watches the exchanges curiously as the shopkeeper nods before turning away, presumably to go through their inventory in the back. “Gloves?” He asks, once it’s just him and Lance again.

Before Lance can answer, the shopkeeper is there again, holding an entire basket filled with gloves. Keith spots several with different numbers of fingers in them, but sure enough there are some that have only five and others that look more like mittens. Lance rifles through the basket while the shopkeeper holds it, and Keith stands back, letting him search. Finally, Lance seems to find what he’s looking for. “These ones, please.”

Keith leans in, curious, but Lance hands them over to the shopkeeper before he can see what they are. “That’ll be fifteen CM,” the shopkeeper informs him.

Lance forks over three gold pieces with Coran’s face stamped on them and takes the bag the shopkeeper hands him in exchange. Satisfied, Lance walks away from the stall with a smile on his face. Keith follows him again, still confused.

“You got gloves?” He asks the second they’re out of earshot. Or at least, out of what Keith presumes their earshot is.

“Sorta.” Lance holds out the bag for Keith to inspect.

Keith reaches inside and pulls out a pair of black gloves. He unfolds them, not understanding, until he sees the cut-off fingers. There’s a hole in the back of them too, just like the ratty ones he’s currently wearing. “These are...for me?” Keith asks, feeling more than a bit stupid.

“Uh yeah. If you want.” When Keith looks back up at Lance, the former red paladin is scratching the back of his neck, a flush high on his cheeks. “I mean those look like the same gloves you wore ten years ago, so I figured you could use a new pair.”

Keith turns his attention back to his hands. He’s still wearing his old gloves, even as he grasps that new pair in his hands. The threads of his old ones have long since come undone and there are irreparable holes on his palms from wearing them while training. They’ve been washed a thousand times, but even so there’s a blood stain on the wrist of the left glove that won’t go away. They should’ve been tossed at least eight years ago, and yet.

“These are my dad’s,” he admits.

He feels more than sees Lance stiffen next to him. “Oh. Shit. You know what? Never mind. I didn’t –”

Keith’s hand closes around Lance’s as the other reaches to take the gloves back. “It’s fine,” he murmurs, looking up to meet Lance’s gaze. “It’s fine,” he promises, louder this time. “It’s time I stopped wearing these anyway.” Long past time, really.

“Are you sure?” Lance looks nervous. “You don’t have to just because I bought these. I can return them or donate them to some young aspiring emo kid.”

Keith releases Lance’s hand while Lance rambles. He takes off his old gloves and pockets them before slipping on the ones Lance had just bought him. They’re soft and fit his hands as if they were tailored just for him.

“It’s too late,” Keith states. “I’m already wearing them.”

“You shouldn’t have to wear them,” Lance argues. “I was being insensitive. I should’ve known there was a reason for you to keep those old ones.”

Keith shakes his head. “No,” he insists. “I’ll keep them.” 

“Keith –” 

“Lance,” Keith interrupts. “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever gone along with something you’ve asked when I didn’t want to?”

“Um, like all the time?” Lance responds. “Do you seriously not remember being a paladin together?”

“I remember.”

“You hated all my ideas back then.” 

“No.” Keith reaches out. “The ones I didn’t like I didn’t do. Anything else was just a show.” He stops himself short of grabbing Lance’s hands again, letting his arms fall to his side. He’s gone too far probably. Admitted too much.

But to his surprise, Lance is the one to reach out this time and grab hold of him. “You,” he breathes. When he meets Keith’s eye, it’s as if there’s no one on this planet but the two of them. “You are a seriously good actor then.”

He’s not mad.

“Or,” Keith reasons, pushing his luck just that little bit further. “You were an idiot.”

Lance snorts. “There’s that too.” 

Keith smiles. It’s like a weight’s lifted somehow. He hasn’t said anything outright, but he may as well have confessed that he’s had feelings for Lance as far back as when they were still forming Voltron together. “So,” he manages, not knowing where to go from here.

“So,” Lance responds. Completely unhelpful.

Keith stares at him flatly.

Lance laughs. “Okay, okay. I get it. You’ll keep the gloves.”

But, no, Lance doesn’t get it. He can’t if that’s the only thing he’s gathered from that conversation. And now that Keith’s let it slip about how he felt about Lance, he wants to keep slipping. He wants to find how far he can slide until Lance gives him a proper rejection, and then he can go about spending the next ten, thirty, eighty years convincing himself that he’s over him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting gloves for Allura?” Keith asks recklessly.

“Why would I get Allura gloves?”

“Because you’re dating.” There. He finally said it. It’s in the open, and now Lance will laugh and tell him _yeah but Allura hates gloves and yours looked pathetic, obviously_.

But instead Lance stares at him with an expression that makes Keith wish he can read minds. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Allura and I have been broken up for years.”

Broken up. For years.

Years.

“Oh,” Keith answers intelligently. He thinks his ears are ringing, but that could be the din from the market. Or it could be a bomb. Who knows anymore. “Are you seeing someone else then?” he manages.

“Why? You interested?”

Keith doesn’t answer. He stares at Lance with his mouth half open, not sure if he means to say no or yes, but the longer the silence draws out between him, the more obvious his answer is. This is how far he can slide. He’s all but leapt off a 90-degree cliff that he’d thought moments ago would be a gentle slope.

Rather than slide, he’s in free–fall.

“No,” Lance says softly, because of course he’s the one who breaks the silence between them. “I’m not seeing anyone.” He reaches out and grabs Keith’s hand, the pressure of which reminds Keith that he still has limbs. “But I’d like to.”

It takes a few moments for the pieces to slide into place. When they finally do, all Keith can manage is another, “Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance agrees.

Keith makes an aborted attempt to nod at the stall where the gloves came from. “Is this a date then?”

Lance snorts. “I’d like to think I can come up with a better date than swimming through a crowd of aliens.”

Keith doesn’t say, _any date with you would be good_ , but it’s a close call. “We can always start over,” he suggests instead.

“Keith Kogane, a true romantic. Who would’ve thought?” Keith can’t tell if Lance is being sarcastic or not. “Alright then. Let’s see if we can get out of here without being trampled, and then you better prepare yourself, samurai, because I’m gonna sweep you off your feet.” He releases Keith’s hand and walks back to the stall. He says something that Keith can’t hear through the rushing of blood in his ears, but the shopkeeper uses one of their many arms to gesture down the alley, away from the main market, so Keith is able to surmise what he asked anyway.

Lance returns to him, grabbing him by the hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you and your new gloves out of here.”

“They were a gift,” Keith responds immediately, earning another laugh from Lance.

The shopkeeper hadn’t been lying about this being the way out. The stalls peter off until there aren’t any left, and the two of them manage to escape the area without getting bowled over. Even so, Keith doesn’t release Lance’s hand, and Lance shows no inclination to do the same. It takes some time, but eventually Keith relaxes as Lance makes jokes and points out aliens whose tentacles look particularly phallic as they pass.

It’s easy being around Lance. Keith had forgotten in all his time away. He’d built up Lance in his head, blown every argument out of proportion in an attempt to get over him that he’d forgotten how well they really do get along.

They fall into an easy conversation after they leave the market and wander through the city, aimless as far as Keith is concerned. Lance tells him about the planets they’ve visited – mostly the same as the ones Keith’s been to – and how Coran is now obsessed with opening a branch of New Altean University on each and every one of them. In return, Keith tells him about Zethrid and Ezor’s wedding, which only he and Acxa had been invited to.

“Is that where Axca went for a month?” Lance asks. “Veronica said she left without saying anything but ‘I’ll be back soon’. She sent out a search party after 48 hours.”

Keith would laugh, but the memory of that wedding is too fresh. He wishes the Blade had sent a search party after him, but of course they hadn’t. “I didn’t know Galra weddings were that long before,” Keith admits. “Plus it got really awkward when they started reminiscing about trying to kill us all.”

Lance bursts out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Keith complains. “I was stuck there for a month.”

“Why did they invite you and not the rest of us? Did you guys have bonding time with the Blades without us?”

Keith winces. “They, uh. They thought Acxa and I were together. They tried to put us in the same room.” The first night had been beyond awkward as far as Keith is concerned. Neither he nor Acxa wanted to sleep on the floor, but they were also both too stubborn to take the bed. It was a cold, sleepless night.

Lance, however, thinks this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. He sinks down to the ground, laughter overtaking him, and nearly drags Keith with him. Refusing to let go of Lance’s hand, Keith folds over awkwardly while Lance laughs so loud it draws stares from the aliens walking past them.

“It’s really not that funny,” Keith insists again.

“Keith. Buddy,” Lance says when he finally has himself under control again. “ _Everyone_ thought you and Axca were together.”

“What? No they didn’t.”

“They definitely did. We were all convinced you guys were secretly dating until Veronica announced their engagement. _That_ was a serious shock.”

Keith blanches. The whole team had thought that? They’d been gossiping about his love life behind his back?

Lance thought he was straight?

“We never were,” he informs Lance. “She’s not my type.”

“Yeah?” Lance asks, interest obviously piqued. “And what is your type?”

Keith blinks twice before responding with, “Men.”

“Only?”

“Only,” Keith confirms.

“Like human men or...?”

“No,” Keith replies, exasperated. “Just men.” He doesn’t want to get any deeper into it in case Lance discovers the pattern all of Keith’s partners have.

Lance stands up, still not letting Keith go. “Interesting,” he says. “I never knew.”

“Well now you know.”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees, stepping closer. “Now I do.”

Keith’s heart rate skyrockets for the few seconds while they stand there. Lance is impossible close; it wouldn’t take any effort at all to lean in. To close that distance. Keith could do it. Lance had bought him gloves. They’re on a date. A kiss would hardly be from out of nowhere.

But then Lance is backing away, tugging on Keith’s hand. “C’mon. There’s still more to see.”

They wander for longer, weaving through the streets down different alleys and back routes. Whatever keeps them away from too many people. It makes it easier to talk that way, though Keith suspects Lance might be doing it more for his benefit than anything else.

It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other that Keith hadn’t noticed how much Lance had changed. He’s more confident of himself than he had been eight years ago. Every decision he makes, from things like which direction to go (even though it’s obviously random) to which story to tell Keith next, has a certainty behind it. Maybe it’s puberty or maybe it’s from being made General of the Coalition, but Lance is no longer hesitant about things. Keith can’t say he’d noticed the hesitation before now, but the difference is a stark contrast to their time forming Voltron.

He learns, while they walk, that being General has a lot more tactical decision making than real battle, which Lance resents. Keith had never thought much about the strategy behind which planets they helped in what order, but someone had to have made that decision. And it turns out that someone had been Lance this whole time.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” Keith remarks after Lance finishes telling him about how a small tactical team – a rare one led by Lance himself – had taken out one of the last Galra holdouts in the Drenarian system a year earlier.

Lance colors. “Hey, I’m not that cocky. Cut me some slack here.”

“No –” 

“Oh perfect,” Lance says, stopping short in front of a shop.

The rest of the sentence gets stuck in the back of his throat as Lance pulls them into the store without any further explanation.

It’s a small shop, selling some kind of food that Keith doesn’t recognize. It’s not a restaurant, which Keith had half expected. After all, the sun is starting to set and he’s getting pretty hungry. A date normally involves food in Keith’s limited experience, but they haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and it’s well into the afternoon now. Lance leads him up to the counter and orders something. Keith pays more attention to the way Lance speaks than the words themselves, so in the end he’s not sure what was actually ordered.

He watches, bemused, as a group of of aliens pulls together a basket and hands it to Lance in exchange for what sounds like an excessive amount of money. But Lance pays it without batting an eye. He looks over at Keith, winks, and says, “Don’t tell Allura,” before pulling Keith and the basket out of the shop. Once they’re outside, Lance pauses, head swiveling back and forth down the street.

“You lost?” Keith asks with a smirk.

“Nope.”

“Looking for something then?”

“Something like that,” Lance hums. He seems to make a decision and leads them off to the left. Keith’s new gloves are soft, which is nice except that now, with Lance pulling so much, their fingers slip apart. Keith grabs Lance’s hand again, holding it more firmly. Lance stops and looks at him, wearing that same expression Keith doesn’t know how to read, then readjusts so their fingers are entwined. “I’m looking for a way out of the city,” Lance informs him softly. Despite the city noises around them, Keith can hear him as if there’s no one else around.

He nods, and Lance continues to walk, but this time he’s slowed down enough that Keith walks alongside him. They might be taking up more area than necessary, but Keith couldn’t care less if people glare at them or not. To be honest, he’s not even paying attention.

He does, however, start looking down the side streets rather than just stare at Lance the entire time. The least he can do is help find a way out of the city. Honestly, all he wants to get away from the crowd and have Lance all to himself. “Lance,” he says after they pass the fifth side street where Keith can clearly see the castle through it.

“Hmm?”

“Castle’s that way.” Keith points to their right with his free hand.

Lance shakes his head, continuing to walk straight ahead. “We’re not going to the castle.”

“But,” Keith frowns. “Don’t we need to give the basket to Hunk?”

Without stopping or even slowing down, Lance looks over at Keith, eyebrow raised. “Who said the basket was for Hunk?”

Now Keith’s even more confused. “No one?” He’d assumed that it was for Hunk. Well, he’d kinda assumed – but maybe this was his stomach talking – that the basket was filled with ingredients for something Lance was going to have Hunk cook for the two of them. Or maybe the team. (But Keith hopes it would be just the two of them.) 

“Exactly.”

It takes a while, but eventually they do hit the edge of the city. The castle is far off to their right, standing tall in the background behind the buildings. The land around them is mostly brown, like the dirt that made up the city streets, but it doesn’t seem barren at all. Keith can’t put his finger on it, but something about the land around him feels alive, even if the bright sun has bleached the color away from the plants.

Or maybe they were always brown.

Their pace automatically slows now that they’re out. It’s a relief, at least to Keith, to be away from such crowds. The planet might be a desert, but it’s clearly thriving with trade, and despite all this time passing, he’s still not a fan of crowds. Lance, too, seems to relax. His grip on Keith’s hand loosens, but he doesn’t let go.

“So,” Keith asks, being the one to break the silence this time. “Where _are_ we going?”

“There are lots of hills around here,” Lance says. “I thought we could sit on one of them.”

It sounds nice, really nice, but Keith’s stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly. “Maybe,” Keith says, berating himself for not thinking to bring a snack, “we should go find a restaurant or something.”

Lance turns to him, crooked grin splitting his face up spectacularly. “Why do you think we stopped at the store?” And with that, he pulls Keith off the path and up the nearest hill to their left.

There are a few trees out here, if they can even be called that. They’re more like giant cacti or something, Keith thinks. Either way, one of them is at the top of the hill where Lance has decided they’re going to sit. He releases Keith’s hand and makes a grand gesture at the ground, clearly indicating that Keith should sit down. Keith does, eyebrows raised, and accepts the basket that Lance hands him. Lance sits down immediately next to him under the shade of the plant. “Open it,” he says when Keith does nothing but hold onto the basket.

Keith does, his confusion shrinking with every moment. The food Lance had ordered all appears somewhat familiar to him. It’s a mix of foods from different planets in the Coalition, Earth and otherwise, but all of them are already prepared. “It’s a picnic!” Lance announces, pleased with himself.

He reaches out and grabs the nearest food – an Olkari fruit that’s a hybrid between a grape and an apple – from Keith’s hand. “Eat,” Lance insists when Keith continues to be silent. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I am,” Keith agrees before digging into his own.

They’re silent for longer after that, focusing entirely on the food. Thankfully, Lance seems to be just as hungry as Keith is given how fast he devours his portion of the food. They split it mostly in half, Keith thinks, but he’s barely focused on fairness while he eats, instead concentrating more on consuming everything so that he can enjoy the rest of the date. 

“You know,” Lance says after he finishes off the last piece of caramelized alien fruit, “I had hoped that the picnic would be more romantic.”

Keith licks the honey off his own fingers before answering. “How so?”

“Well, we would’ve fed each other those fruits. I would’ve been the one licking honey off your fingers. We’d talk.” Lance shrugs. “That sort of thing.”

Keith colors at the thought. “Oh,” he manages.

“But I guess if I wanted that I should’ve planned better,” Lance continues, nonplussed.

“Lance,” Keith says, feeling a sudden need to say something. The words have been caught in his throat for so long, and there’s nothing about this moment that should draw them out, but he wants to say them. No. He _needs_ to say them. “I like you.”

“I really thought you weren’t interested,” Lance murmurs. He reaches out to Keith, wrapping his fingers lightly around Keith’s. “But just so you know, I like you too.”.

Keith shakes his head. No matter what Lance thinks, no matter how much Lance likes him, it’s not the same. It won’t be the same. But – 

It’s good enough.

He leans over, doing what he’s been dying to do for eight, ten, maybe a hundred years, and presses his lips against Lance’s. He’s kissed more than a dozen guys – and slept with at least half of them – but nothing compares to this. He’d dreamed about it, imagined it when he’d needed a pull to get him through some less-than-promising missions, but his thoughts don’t hold a candle to the real thing.

It’s fleeting, this kiss. It’s soft, chaste, and over too fast, and yet it feels like fireworks are being lit in each small place where they touch. He’s barely broken the kiss but Lance is already surging forward, crushing their lips together once again.

The second kiss is less chaste than the first. Keith shoves the basket out of the way to who-knows-or-cares-where and grabs a fist-full of Lance’s shirt to hold him in place. Not that he needs to. Lance presses his chest against Keith, crushing Keith’s hand between them. He makes a little breathy noise against Keith when they pause for air, and Keith chases it down to seal their lips together again.

They kiss three times. Then four. Then seven. Enough times that Keith stops counting or caring. This is far from his first kiss, but it may as well be with how much it sets him on fire. He’s been in love with Lance for as long as he can remember, so no kiss will ever compare anyway.

Their lips move against each other, and Keith’s hand stays crushed between them even as he pushes Lance back against the ground. With his free hand, he pushes his fingers through the short hairs on the buzzed side of Lance’s head. Without looking, he’s able to pinpoint exactly where the scar is: there’s a small break between the hairs. Lance wraps his own arm around Keith’s shoulder, fisting Keith’s shirt in his hand like he’s holding him in place. 

Keith loses himself in the sensation of Lance’s lips against his own that he loses track of Lance’s free hand as it wanders over him. He’s reminded of it by a sharp tug on his ponytail. Keith let’s out a gasp.

Lance breaks the kiss. “That was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Stop talking,” Keith growls, tugging him back unceremoniously.

It’s like all the wet dreams Keith has had since he was the red paladin, but better. Lance kisses him with all the ferocity of someone who thinks they’re about to wake up at any moment: short and needy, with more teeth than lip. Keith responds to each one in kind, drawing them out longer and deeper until Lance is the one gasping into his mouth. Keith’s the one to break apart first, needing to remove all the barriers between them. Starting with Lance’s pants.

He pushes off Lance just enough to start tugging on them, and Lance all but chokes.

“What?” Keith asks, a little petulant that he’s being slowed.

“This is a public area,” Lance answers hoarsely.

Keith blinks, coming back to reality. Right. They’re barely outside the city, and they hadn’t even gone that far off the road to get up this hill. In fact, here at the top they might as well be broadcasting themselves to anyone within a mile radius as to what they’re doing.

“Right,” Keith says, properly chastised. “Back to the castle then?” he asks, half convinced that Lance is going to say _no, this was fine. I got what I wanted_.

“God, yes,” Lance breathes, drawing Keith’s attention back to him. Any fear he’d had that Lance wouldn’t be interested flies out the window. He’s flushed all the way down his neck, possibly further under the shirt, and the look he’s giving Keith can’t be interpreted as anything but pure lust. With maybe a hint of wonder.

“Right,” Keith repeats. He backs off of Lance and straightens his shirt. His erection is still visible in his pants, but there’s not much he can do about that right now, so he writes it off as a bad job. The walk back is going to be painful regardless.

The basket, which had been put together so nicely initially, is an irritating obstacle as they cram all the remaining food back inside. Lance grabs it, but Keith snatches it from his hand, stealing another kiss to distract him.

“No fair,” Lance complains, but the dilation of his pupils and the smile on his lips tell Keith that Lance doesn’t mind at all.

“You carried it out here,” Keith reasons. His gaze is drawn like a magnet back to Lance’s lips. They’re so close. If Keith were only to lean in just a little...

“We really should get back to the castle,” Lance states, as if he knows exactly what Keith’s thinking. “Quickly.”

It’s less of a walk and more of a stumble as they make their way back into town. The castle seems to be about a thousand miles away, made even further by the fact that neither of them are familiar with the area, so they don’t know the best way back. They have to stop every few buildings to get their bearings.

Sometimes, the light of the now-setting sun catches just right against Lance’s skin, and Keith has to resist the urge to press him against the buildings and kiss him until shadows claim the alleys. But resist he does, even when Lance gives him a look so obviously filled with lust that even Keith can’t interpret it as anything different.

The castle is agonizingly fair away, and by the time they reach it, Keith’s in no state to be seen by anyone. Somehow, despite it taking that long, he’s still half hard and aching. He needs to get Lance alone. In private this time.

They enter through one of the side doors, but Keith immediately has to drag Lance down a different hallway. His ears, more sensitive than humans’ but less than a full-blood Galra, pick up the sounds of Shiro and Allura talking.

“I knew you just wanted to manhandle me,” Lance teases in a murmur when Keith pushes him against the wall as their former teammates pass.

“I swear,” Keith responds gruffly, patience less than a hair from snapping entirely, “if we don’t get somewhere private soon, I’m going to take you in this hallway.”

Lance’s pupils swell and red floods his cheeks before he nods, pushing Keith back. “This way.”

Lance leads them down the still–unfamiliar hallways to a room that isn’t Keith’s own. It might be Lance’s or it might be the emperor of Spain’s for all he knows. Keith doesn’t give a shit. The second the door closes, he’s on Lance.

Thankfully, Lance meets him halfway. He drags Keith backwards, not breaking the kiss until they hit something hard. Lance falls backwards, separating from Keith, and Keith tilts over, catching himself on what is definitely a mattress before he smashes his face into Lance’s.

He gets a full view of Lance’s expression, open desire written all over it, and for the first time since they kissed on the hill, Keith falters.

“Are we...” he hesitates, not wanting to ask it but knowing deep down that he should. “Are we moving too fast?”

There’s a split second where they just stare at each other in silence before Lance’s face softens. He pushes himself out of Keith’s grasp before sitting up, leaning against his elbows as he stares at Keith. Keith’s fingers dig into the bedding as he bites back the sudden urge to cry.

Lance gazes at him for an impossibly long time, biting his lip before declaring, “I want this. If you do.”

Unable to resist any longer, Keith crawls onto the bed, straddling Lance with just enough space between them for Lance to change his mind and duck out. “I’ve wanted this longer than you can imagine,” he confesses. 

Lance leans up before Keith can elaborate and seals their lips together again, answering Keith’s question for good.

They don’t talk after that. Instead, they continue exactly where they’d left off on the hill. Lance’s kisses once again turn shallow and needy, but Keith doesn’t waste his time trying to drag them out again. He meets Lance beat for beat before finally giving up on kissing and latching himself onto Lance’s neck instead. Lance’s breathing turns to pants under Keith’s attentions, and Keith doesn’t even have his hand down Lance’s pants yet.

It’s perfect.

“Keith...” Lance breathes, pulling Keith back up to his lips.

He could die like this, Keith thinks as they return to the deeper kisses that force his memory away. Technically, the foreplay hasn’t even started yet, and Keith already feels like he’s dancing on the precipice. He lets himself get lost in the kisses for a while, drowning in the feeling until Lance breaks away. “Pants,” Lance says when Keith gives him a look that he can _feel_ expresses how disappointed he is that they stopped. “Off.”

Keith doesn’t need to be told twice. He shucks his pants immediately, fast enough that he can help Lance out of his. There’s still too much clothes between them – underwear and shirts – so Keith makes quick work of those too. Some other time, he might try to drag it out. He’d peel apart each layer from Lance piece by individual piece. But this isn’t some other time. He’s needy and desperate and he’s wanted this for half his life now. He’s not stopping short of a universe-ending emergency. So instead he all but tears the remainder of Lance’s clothes off of him, getting tangled as Lance tries to do the same to him.

Only once they’re finally both naked does Keith take a moment to look – really look – at the sight of Lance lying beneath him.

Lance is flushed, red marring his usually dark skin. But that’s not all. He’s scarred, more than Keith would’ve expected given that they’re technically in a time of peace. There’s a particularly nasty one on his stomach, a slash that goes from just below his belly button up his left side, curving where Lance’s hip bone stands out. It’s healed enough that Keith thinks it can’t be any newer than a few years old, but it’s not something he remembers happening in his time with Voltron. A few other scars, newer than that one, mar his otherwise perfect skin, and Keith’s eyes trace them up until he meets Lance’s gaze again.

He’s staring at Keith with open wonder on his face, and he’s so beautiful that it almost physically hurts. So Keith does the only thing he knows how to do: he closes the distance between them and kisses Lance again, leaning down on his elbows.

Without clothes, it’s somehow even better. Keith’s chest touches against Lance’s, each point of pressure lighting him up like a firework. He rubs his palm against Lance’s shoulder, suddenly reminded that he still has his gloves on. He breaks apart, frustrated, but Lance grabs him before he can take them off.

“Leave them,” Lance commands.

“What?”

“Leave them,” he repeats.

Keith blinks, but Lance’s expression is serious, if a little embarrassed, and it clicks. “Do you have a thing for my gloves?”

“Shut up,” Lance growls. He pulls Keith back down to him, and all Keith’s questions vanish.

Keith lets Lance draw several more kisses out of him before he decides that enough is enough. He breaks apart, ignoring the whine that comes from Lance, and pushes himself away. He kisses his way down Lance’s neck and chest until there’s not enough bed left and he has to lower himself to the floor.

“Keith what are you –” Lance cuts himself off when Keith shoots him a _look_ as he settles on his knees. Without needing to say anything, Lance slides himself closer to the edge and props himself up so that Keith can still see his face. It does the trick.

He’s at eye level with Lance’s dick: something he’s had very vivid dreams of but had never thought would actually happen. Lance is hard, just as hard as he is, and is already leaking. Keith wraps his hand around Lance’s dick first, pumping him a few times in slow smooth movements. Lance lets out another little sound – something that might be a whimper – but Keith doesn’t speed up yet. He’s getting a feel for what Lance is like in reality; what Lance likes and what make him shiver.

But slow and smooth isn’t Keith’s strong suit, so the second Lance lets out a little whimper, Keith loses it. Neither of them can wait anymore, so Keith puts them both out of their misery and wraps his mouth around Lance’s erection.

The moan Lance lets out is sinful.

Keith moves his head while his free hand massages where he can reach of Lance’s ass. It’s toned and absolutely perfect, and Keith can’t help himself but move ever closer and closer to Lance’s hole. Lance doesn’t even try to stay silent. He’s letting out breathy pants and moans and whimpers and it _does things_ to Keith’s body that aren’t fair considering that no one is touching him at all.

So he pauses his movements and looks up, waiting until he catches his eye. With his mouth still wrapped around Lance, Keith gives him a smirk, then takes him all the way in while pressing one finger into Lance’s hole.

“Fuck,” Lance moans. There’s no pain there, only pleasure, and he’s pressing his body down the bed against Keith, wordlessly begging him to keep going.

Keith can’t say no to that.

He swallows Lance down, increasing his speed as he moves both his hands and his face. He’s getting sloppy by the time he adds a second finger: nothing is moving in time with each other. Between Lance grinding himself down the bed and Keith’s ministrations, their timing is horribly off, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind at all. But when one grind from Lance matches with Keith curling his fingers inside Lance, he finally gets lucky. He hits Lance’s prostrate, and Lance’s entire body shudders around him.

Keith’s mouth is dripping as he refuses to break away from Lance. Lance is so close and Keith’ll be damned if he’s not there to help Lance get all the way to the end. “Shit, Keith, I –” Lance cuts himself off when Keith’s fingers curl against that spot again.

He’s focusing his efforts on getting Lance to come from his prostrate, so Keith’s other hand does nothing aside from squeeze the inside of Lance’s thigh as he thrusts his fingers in and out, simulating what he’d do another time if they weren’t already this close. His mouth is barely keeping up, but it doesn’t matter, because Keith’s fingers curl once more and then it’s over.

Lance’s lower back arches off the bed, and his dick presses against the back of Keith’s throat as it swells. Keith chokes a little as Lance comes, but he couldn’t care less. He continues to move his fingers gently inside Lance to help him ride it out. When Lance finishes, Keith pulls himself off Lance’s dick with a pop and swallows what hadn’t dripped down his chin. He removes his fingers gently and wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing at how much had leaked out.

“Keith,” Lance calls to him, voice broken. Keith’s forgotten dick twitches and he looks up to see Lance gazing down at him. “Keith,” he repeats, reaching.

Keith forces himself up, knees stiff, and lets Lance pull him back down onto the bed so Keith’s straddling him. Keith’s erection brushes against Lance’s groin, and Lance hisses, still sensitive. Keith shifts so he’s pressed against the curve where Lance’s hip meets his leg instead.

“Let me,” Lance insists, wrapping his hand around Keith’s erection. Keith huffs out a breath, a whine escaping before he can stop it. The look Lance gives him is pure evil, and it’s followed by Lance dragging his hand down in a painfully slow movement.

“Lance,” Keith complains.

“Tell me how you want it,” Lance insists. His voice is still breathy from their actions moments ago.

There are a thousand ways Keith wants it. He wants to take Lance for real, he wants to mime it by fucking between Lance’s legs, he wants Lance’s mouth around him too. He wants it so many ways, but he’s close enough right now that even Lance’s slow pumps are going to do him in, so instead Keith says, “Like this,” and grinds himself against Lance’s leg.

Lance understands immediately and lifts his leg so it presses against Keith’s erection as he moves his hand out of the way. He wraps his arms around Keith’s hips instead, keeping him from falling off. He urges Keith as Keith grinds himself against Lance’s leg, losing himself to the sounds of Lance’s voice in his ear.

“Like that, just like that, baby,” Lance murmurs, breath leaving goosebumps against Keith’s neck. His fingers press into the muscles of Keith’s ass as he assists in Keith’s movements, and it’s all Keith can do to just hold on. “You like that, don’t you? God you’re so sexy,” Lance purrs in his ear as he raises his leg in time to meet Keith’s thrusts, and Keith is _lost_.

His fingers dig into the sheets on either side of Lance as he presses himself against Lance’s hip one last time and lets himself fall over the edge. His vision goes momentarily white as he comes, dirtying the space between them, and when he’s done, he slumps forward, forehead resting against Lance’s shoulder.

They stay there like that in silence while Keith calms back down. Eventually, when his breathing evens out again, he registers the stickiness still between them and the discomfort of balancing on one of Lance’s legs. He pushes himself away and stands up, wincing at how much come there really is between the two of them. He hasn’t exactly been holding back recently, but... it’s a lot. More than usual he’d say.

Lance stands up once Keith steps back and shakes out his leg, no doubt asleep. “Damn,” he says. “You weigh a lot.”

Keith shoots a glare at him. “That’s the first thing you can think of?”

“Well I’d thought about asking why you got up. Never took you for a love-em-and-leave-em type. But,” he gestures at the mess between them, “I figured it out.” He gestures vaguely behind Keith. “Bathroom’s that way if you want to wash up.”

“What about you?”

Lance raises an eyebrow at him. “You want me to join you?”

“More efficient that way,” Keith reasons, pretending like it has nothing to do with the fact that he wants to make sure Lance also doesn’t leave. Though, he supposes, this is probably his room.

Keith’s too worn out from their first time to try anything in the shower, and Lance doesn’t either. It’s strangely comfortable, being this domestic with him. Keith peels his gloves off, scrubbing them with water and soap, pretending not to notice the amused look on Lance’s face. They’re new and a gift and he’s not going to let them get ruined just because Lance apparently has a glove kink. 

Maybe Keith could invest in a pair just for sex.

The two of them finish washing up, and in no time at all they’re back in the room. Keith doesn’t even have a second to consider if he’s supposed to leave, because Lance grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back to the bed. They kick off the top cover onto the floor and lie on top of the sheets, hair still damp.

“You’ll stay the night, right?” Lance asks him.

Keith, who had been staring up at the ceiling, mind mercifully blank, turns over to look at him. “Do you want me to?”

The smile Lance gives him isn’t the crooked grin Keith’s seen the rest of the day. It’s softer, more vulnerable. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Then I will.”

Lance laughs. “So simple.”

He’s beautiful like this. They’d just had sex – near sex – and yet this is a more intimate view of Lance than Keith had during that time. So Keith cups Lance’s cheek with his hand and tells him. “You’re beautiful.”

Lance lets out a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.” 

He reaches up and traces his finger down Keith’s cheek to his neck. It takes a moment for Keith to realize that he’s touching Keith’s scar. Keith grabs Lance’s wrist and pushes his hand away as gently as possible. “Not that part of me,” he says. Keith’s never been vain; he’s never cared about his looks before. But he knows that this gash down his face isn’t exactly the most appealing feature on him. His skin never healed quite right from that cut. It’s a stark contrast to Lance’s perfectly unmarred face.

“Especially that part of you,” Lance insists.

Keith knows that there’s no arguing with him, so instead he changes the subject. “What happened?” He reaches down, splaying his palm across Lance’s stomach and covering the scar there.

“Assassination attempt,” Lance remarks casually. “It happens sometimes.” The horror across Keith’s face must be visible because Lance closes the distance between them and plants a chaste kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry: I can handle myself.”

“People want to kill you?” Keith asks a little stupidly. Of course people want to kill him. People want to kill them all. But there’s something different between battle and an assassination attempt. The latter is much more personal.

“People want to kill Allura,” Lance corrects. “And they want to kill me because I’m close to her.”

“You should have a bodyguard,” Keith declares.

Lance laughs. “You offering?”

“No.”

Lance brushes back a damp piece of Keith’s hair before it can fall over his eyes. “How is it? Being with the Blade I mean.”

“That’s random. Even from you.”

Lance shrugs. “We were talking about jobs. Not that random.”

Keith sighs. This conversation is one he’s known was coming for a while. He’d just assumed he’d have it with Krolia or Kolivan first. “It’s alright,” he admits. “But I don’t love it.” Not like he’d loved being a paladin.

“Things aren’t the same without the lions, are they?” Lance asks, seeming to read his mind.

Rather than respond, Keith turns his head and kisses the palm of Lance’s hand.

“You can always come with us, you know,” Lance says, clearly refusing to drop the subject.

“And do what?”

“I dunno. Maybe be the Blade liason or something. Mostly we go through Kolivan but he’s hard to get a hold of. Allura’s been complaining about it for a while.”

“So I’d be part of the Blade still?”

“Sure. If you want.”

Keith hums.

“That’s not a yes,” Lance observes.

“It’s not a no either.”

“I’ll take it then.”

Once again they fall into silence, but this time Keith keeps his eyes on Lance rather than looking at the ceiling, and Lance looks right back. He’d never really thought that he’d find himself here: in Lance’s bed like this. It’s getting chilly now that they’ve cooled down from the sex and shower, but neither of them make a move to cover themselves. Keith doesn’t want to do anything that would break this moment.

Eventually, Lance’s eyes start to droop, and goosebumps start to form on Keith’s skin. “Hey,” he whispers. “Lance.”

“Mm?”

“We should get under the blankets.”

“Mm.”

It’s as close to an agreement as he’s gonna get, so Keith takes charge. He sits up and tugs the blankets out from Lance’s body. It takes more than a little effort, especially since Lance seems so un-inclined to help, but eventually he gets them out from under him and covers them both. Lance reaches out, grabbing Keith’s wrist and holding on. “Lance?”

“Don’t go,” Lance mumbles sleepily.

Keith leans forward, pressing his forehead against Lance’s own. If only Lance knew. It’s been over ten years since he’s noticed these feelings and nothing – not the distance of the universe, not countless sexual partners, not getting lost for two years, not even near death itself – has been able to make them go away. Now that Lance is reciprocating them, he’s not going to leave him. Not now, not ever.

“I won’t,” Keith promises to the now-sleeping Lance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he means it.

**Author's Note:**

> [retweet the art](https://twitter.com/jillibeeean/status/1259644798195175427?s=20)   
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> 
>   
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